SLEEPLESS

A Conabby Fanfic by Keri G Mohror

Connor started awake, instantly alert to any hint of danger in the blackness around him … but the only sound was his own pounding heart and Abby's soft breathing beside him . As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to make out the shadowy outlines of the furniture in Jess's spare bedroom. The tension drained from his body as he realized there was nothing to fear. They were home now. They were safe.

The trouble was, it didn't feel that way. Not yet, at least. It was only natural, Connor told himself, that it would take a little time to settle back in, to put the horrors of the past year behind them. Yesterday on his way to Jess's apartment, he had strolled through the Green Park. Turning a corner, he had come upon a young hare munching tulip sprouts beside the path. The creature's body trembled as it constantly sniffed the air and glanced in every direction — and Connor felt a sudden shock of recognition and kinship. He knew what it was like to feel, every moment, that sudden death was only a heartbeat away.

Connor had learned what it was to be prey.

Next to him, Abby stirred and snuggled closer. Her head rested on his shoulder and her left arm lay across him, her fingers played over his bare chest. She whimpered quietly in her sleep, and he gently stroked her hair until her breathing settled back into a peaceful rhythm. Glancing down into her pale, delicate features, Connor felt a rush of tenderness sweep over him, powerful enough to catch his breath in his throat. A sudden memory flitted through his mind and he smiled, recalling earlier that day when his old mate Duncan had asked Abby if she was his girlfriend – and she had said yes. It wasn't news to Connor; they had been lovers for several months before they made it back home two days ago. But hearing it out loud thrilled him somehow. Given the opportunity, he'd shout it from the rooftops. He wanted the whole world to know: Connor Temple and Abby Maitland were together.

It was still a wonder to Connor that this beautiful, incredible woman wanted to be with him. And the depth of what he felt for her awed and overwhelmed him. He had thought he was in love with her before they were stranded in the past – and he was, in his boyish, naïve way. But the bond they had forged over that long, long year in the Cretaceous was more profound than anything he could have imagined. He loved Abby. Loved her down to the very marrow of his bones. And she loved him.

At least he thought she did. True, she had never actually said the words. Yet the warm glow in her eyes whenever she looked at him … the way she reached for his hand as they walked side by side … her soft sigh when he pulled her into his arms … in a hundred different ways she had expressed how she felt. Just not in words. Even as they made love, while expressions of adoration tumbled from his lips in a breathless torrent, she had no similar declarations for him. She clearly enjoyed their intimacy and showed her pleasure both physically and audibly. But that didn't necessarily mean she loved him, did it?

A few times he had nearly asked her outright. His nerve always failed him, though. In truth, there was a little piece of him that was terrified to hear the answer. Because if she really DID love him … if she felt even a tiny fraction of what consumed his heart and soul … surely she would tell him. And she hadn't.

There were other things, too, that caused a tight knot to form in his belly and his heart to skip a beat when he thought about them. Something was off … wrong … with Abby. Of course she was as skittish and wary as he was after their ordeal; Connor hoped that the constant anxiety of being stalked would fade for her as well as him in time. No, this was something more. Something darker.

Connor had to admit that in their first few months in the Cretaceous, Abby had coped better than he had. Cool and pragmatic, she had sorted out what needed to be done to survive until the anomaly reopened and brought them home. Her knowledge of botany kept them fed, and her skills in fending off attack kept them alive. While Connor thrashed about in impotent frustration at their predicament, she calmly set up camp and settled in for the duration. Ultimately, her strength and quiet composure had brought Connor back to a more balanced perspective. They would never have survived those early days if it hadn't been for Abby, Connor knew.

For a while they both remained certain that the anomaly would open at any moment. Surely their friends and colleagues back at the ARC were devoting all resources to their rescue. But as the weeks, and then months, went by, Connor saw the hope drain out of Abby. She gradually became resigned to the probability that they would spend the rest of their lives in this alien world. Connor could not allow himself the same acceptance – especially as Abby's resignation hardened into hopelessness. Connor watched helplessly as the love of his life slid inexorably toward the brink of despair. No matter how he tried to revive her spirit – or simply make her laugh at his stupid jokes – Abby grew ever more withdrawn. She was giving up. If the anomaly hadn't opened up when it had … Connor didn't like to think about what might have happened if they remained trapped in that dark and deadly place.

They had both been overjoyed to get back to their own time, and Connor exulted in Abby's declaration that everything would be all right now. But it wasn't, so far anyway. Granted, it had only been a few days and they were still adjusting and recovering from 12 months of unrelenting physical punishment and psychological strain. They returned to find so much had changed, so much had been lost in the year they were away. Finding their equilibrium would take time. Yet Connor was haunted by the realization that the biggest change wasn't in what they came back to in the present, but what they had become in the past.

Connor felt he had come through the experience pretty well, all things considered. He'd never be the same eager, innocent boy who had entered the anomaly. But the man who came back was still as committed to their mission as ever – more so, in fact. Apart from Abby, the thing that had sustained Connor through the past year was his determination to carry on Professor Cutter's work. He wouldn't let his mentor down. Not ever again. Connor had come to think of himself as a bit of an upgrade to the original model – Connor 2.0, as it were. He was tougher, better able to handle and defend himself. And now he had Abby.

His Abby. Connor had a sudden urge to pull her even closer to him, to wrap his arms around her and shield her from anything – man, woman or monster – that could harm her. He felt such a need to protect and take care of her, even though he was aware that she was more capable of that than he was. Yes, under her patient tutelage he had become physically stronger and more proficient in self-defense, and a year of living moment to moment had honed his powers of focus and intuition so that he could instantly detect any potential threat. But even with all that, Connor knew he'd never be a Danny Quinn or Hilary Becker. So maybe he couldn't be that kind of hero for her. There were other things he could do.

Like figure out where these anomalies were coming from, and how to control them. Connor was driven to continue Cutter's work not only out of loyalty to the man himself, but because he really believed he might be the only one who could unravel the tangle of threads that had perplexed the ARC team since the anomalies started showing up almost five years before. Solving that mystery was hugely important – might even save the world.

And it would make Abby proud of him.

It was incredibly important to Connor that Abby not feel embarrassed to be with him. He wasn't blind to the differences between them, or the likelihood that others were shaking their heads and wondering how he ever won a woman so far upmarket of him. His need to prove himself to her and everyone else sometimes made him a bit rash, Connor acknowledged. When they were finally alone together in the company flat after coming through the anomaly, Abby had torn him a new one for trying to send the spinosaurus back on his own. Yeah, it was stupid … but he'd already blown it by letting the creature through in the first place. Surely she could understand that he needed to redeem himself in the eyes of Becker and the new team – and her.

Even more than making her proud of him, though, Connor was determined to give her something: He would make her happy. Happier than she had ever been or dreamed of being.

As happy – almost – as she made him.

Connor closed his eyes and tried to shake off a gnawing unease, reminding himself that Abby had already said she was happy with him. And if that wasn't quite the same thing as "I love you," it was still far more than he had ever really expected. He clung to the fact that she claimed to be happy. Happy was good. Happy was something to build on.

Yet despite her assurances, Connor was uneasy. In some ways he barely recognized Abby anymore. He often looked into her eyes, searching for the spark, the effervescent spirit that had thrilled and entranced him since the day they met. But as hard as he looked, as much as he hoped and prayed for it … that joy wasn't there. It scared him to realize that something intangible, yet vital, had been extinguished in her.

The possibility that his love might not be enough to bring it back scared him even more. He wished he knew the cause of her melancholy, so he could fix it. He'd do anything to fix it. His greatest fear was that it was because of something he had done. Or that she'd finally realized everything he was NOT – all the deficiencies that made him so unworthy of her. Suddenly another memory intruded into his thoughts. It was of Duncan's astonished reaction to Connor and Abby's relationship. "You and that hot blonde?" he'd joked. "Unbelievable!"

Now, as much as he fought to repress it, Connor was beginning to wonder if Duncan might be right.